But first a word from our sponsors:
I look forward to my early mornings. The routine creates some sense of order that helps each day be as productive as it can be (or at least until it is interrupted by children or infoMania). Since Melany is pregnant, I am not making a whole pot of coffee each morning, which is ok, because I get to make French press coffee and it is only 6 cups in the morning, instead of 12. While we are on the subject of how you make coffee, the French press method really is the best. (According the citymade husbands, anyway [Christian’s note])
I like to read, write, or sit in quiet, before the day begins.
But then, as the burden of all of those used coffee grounds begins to plague me, I look down, rather distraught over the amounts of coffee grounds that I have thrown away over the years. My mind starts racing, and I worry, “What if people were to find out?” “They would know I am a husband of the citymade crew, and how could Melany ever be proud to say she is my wife if word gets out that I don’t repurpose my coffee grounds.” (It’s a good thing you are not so concerned about repurposing sermons [Christian’s note]).
Then, almost as a Divine Intervention (I am an ordained minister you know, so, of course, I could pick up on divine interventions rather readily) a single tear is shed, and while falling down on the arm rest of the chair I am in… I notice… (What, a dust bunny? A dirty old head of a Cabbage Patch doll? The remains of a pizza from weeks ago? [Christian’s eager guesses])
I realized that the repurposing gods must be speaking to me, because there must be some way to use one of my favorite vices (drinking coffee) to allow me to go outside and feel good about myself for not wasting the coffee grounds. I then recalled coming across an article about different ways you can re-purpose your coffee grounds. I used a Q-Tip and dipped it into the grounds and rubbed it into the arm of the chair with the mark. After a couple of minutes of hard scrubbing, the mark came off.
Whew, I can now sleep better at night, able now to look at my wife with a clear conscience and not feel bad about drinking as much coffee as I do and having anything go to waste. (Fair Trade, organic, of course, oh and from your local coffee roaster. Oh and one more thing, compost your grounds in your garden. Is that a triple repurpose? Why yes, it is.)
We seem to be getting the hang of this, eh, Carol and Melany?